


Six Steps To Being A Better Stand-Up

by randomling



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-15
Updated: 2008-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomling/pseuds/randomling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's pretty hard to date a guy who thinks you're straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Step One: I Never

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizmo/gifts).



**November 23rd**

It was bizarre, Justin thought, tipping his head back against Chris's couch. He'd been in Florida three weeks – three weeks tomorrow – and he already had friends. Friends from work, even. When he'd had the interview at Travelstar, late the week before last, he hadn't imagined the guys would be quite so great. They'd taken care of him right from the first day: Joey with his random Tupperwares full of lasagne or stew, Lance making sure he could find the grocery store and laundry place, Chris leaning over the back of his chair at the end of a shift and insisting he come out for a beer. And then there was JC, of course, who'd gotten talking to Justin in the parking lot at Disney World, the day they didn't hire him, and told him about the Travelstar vacancy in the first place. Without him, Justin would probably be back in Tennessee right now, working in the hardware store and getting drunk with Trace on weekends.

Lance and JC weren't there that night, but Alecia from work was, and Joey's girlfriend, Kelly. Justin was sitting on the floor of Chris's basement apartment, taking a drag off one of Chris's very strong joints, feeling warm and fuzzy and really stoned. He blew a lungful of smoke at the ceiling before passing the joint back to Chris. Maybe the smoke would float up through the cracks in the ceiling and get the people in the first-floor apartment stoned. That would be pretty funny.

"Hey! Move your head, you pervert!" He sat up and guiltily looked around to see Alecia, stretched out on the couch above him, making a move to push his head away from where it had been resting against her thigh. "You need privileges for that, boy," she said, laughing.

He grinned. "Sorry." He shifted a little so that he could put his elbows on the coffee table and rest his head on his forearms. That was a great position from which to watch Chris, who was framed against the window, leaning back in his battered easy chair and sucking hard on the joint. He looked just as relaxed as Justin felt. Also, really, really good. "Hey," he said, in roughly Chris's direction - about all he could manage in his current state. "You were great tonight. Really great."

That earned him a scowl from Chris and a playful kick in the back from Alecia. "Kiss-ass freak," she said. "He _sucks_ and you know it!"

Chris waved the joint in Joey's direction. "S'true." He gestured with the joint a little more forcibly. "Hey! Joe! You awake?"

"Uhh?" Joey turned away from Kelly's shoulder, eyes half-closed. "Oh. Yeah, man." He made a couple of swipes in the air around the joint before finally making contact with it.

Chris laughed. "Dude. Don't set the building on fire, all right?"

"You don't suck," said Justin, forcing himself to sit up straight. "He doesn't suck. Right, Joey?"

"Totally sucks," said Joey around the joint.

"Sorry, Justin," said Kelly. "It's a sad fact of life. Chris's comedy sucks ass."

"I'll drink to that." And, grabbing his half-empty beer from the coffee, table, Chris did so.

Justin sunk back down onto his folded arms. "Well, _I_ had a good time."

"We all had a good _time,"_ Alecia said. "Nobody said it wasn't fun seeing Chris die on stage." Justin glanced up; Chris was making a face at her.

Chris leaned forward and knocked Justin gently on the head with the bottom of his beer bottle. Justin made an attempt to stir himself, fighting against his body's desire to stay right where it was. "Let's change the subject," he said. When Justin finally managed to sit up, Chris shoved the beer bottle into his hand. Justin took the hint and finished it off, tipping his head back to get at the last drops, watching Chris's eyes. They were dark, but they were really _intense_ somehow, could cut through you like a laser, make you feel like he could see what you were thinking.

Or maybe he was just really drunk. Justin put down the bottle.

"To what?" Alecia asked.

"What, I'm supposed to think of everything?" Chris rolled his eyes.

"Fine," said Kelly. "Kids' TV."

"They," said Chris, gesturing at Justin and Alecia, "still _watch_ kids' TV when they get home from school. I'm not putting up with Pokemon nostalgia in my own damn apartment at two in the morning."

"Hey!" said Justin, laughing. From behind Justin, Alecia snarled.

"Hot movie stars," Joey suggested.

Alecia waved a hand. "Angelina Jolie. There, end of conversation. Weirdest place you've had sex."

"Sordid!" Chris shouted. Justin collapsed forward onto the coffee table, giggling and flushed.

"Well, I'm out," said Joey.

"We could play a game," said Justin. He looked back up at Chris, and Chris turned his head to look at Justin; Justin looked away. He really didn't need Chris to see what he was thinking right now. "We used to play it in school, but it's not too lame. Everybody's gonna need a fresh drink, though."

***

Joey stirred himself to pass everyone a beer. When they'd gotten through all the possible distractions - opening the beers; finding more chips; Chris rolling another joint - Justin made Alecia shift enough of herself that he could fit on the couch. She just curled up a little, poking her toes against Justin's thigh and looking like she was about to go to sleep. When everyone was ready, Justin took a breath and started to explain the rules.

"It's called I Never," he began. Alecia immediately started to laugh; he could feel her shaking against him and turned to look at her. "What?"

"Nothing. Man, I love that game." She had the joint now, and waved it at him. Justin leaned over and grabbed for it. She caught him by the wrist, then gave him the joint and let go. "I can explain!"

"Nah," he said. "I can do it better." He pulled on the joint, handed it on to Chris, and leaned forward a bit. "It goes like this: somebody says, I never… I don't know, wore red socks… and if you _have,_ you take a drink. All right?" He got nods from Joey and Kelly, as if they were paying attention, and Chris made an encouraging _mm_ noise. "And it goes round the table like that."

"Okay," said Chris. "We could give it a try." He paused. "So it's gotta be something you've never done? Like, I never kissed Hulk Hogan?"

Justin laughed. "Ew. No. It can be something you've done, just, if you've done it, you gotta drink, just like everyone."

"I never kissed Lance Bass," said Joey. He, Chris and Alecia all drank, then dissolved into laughter.

"Seriously?" said Justin. "You've _all_ kissed Lance? He's, like, the _manager,_ yo."

"He's a man-_ho,_ is what he is," said Chris.

"I prefer to think he just has great taste," said Alecia in as haughty a voice as she could manage.

"Okay," said Justin. "Chris next."

Chris was quiet for a minute. "Wow. Thinking of stuff is the hard part, apparently."

"Anything you want," said Justin.

"Okay, uh… I never had sex in a car. I know, that's lame." Chris drank almost before he'd finished talking; Justin was the only one to leave his beer untouched on the table. "Seriously, J? Okay, man, your turn." He took a drag on the joint and handed it over to Joey.

Justin crossed his legs and thought, determined to think of something grown-up and not lame. "Okay. I never had sex with anybody at work."

"Somebody define sex?" said Chris.

Justin glanced at Alecia, who had her bottle at her lips. "At least one orgasm," she said. Justin nodded.

"Okay, fine," said Chris, and drank.

"Who?" said Justin.

Joey grinned. "Wouldn't it be quicker to ask who he _hasn't_ done?"

"Fuck you," said Chris amicably, and didn't go on. Justin didn't press him.

"Justin?" Kelly said. "At Travelstar, or at my work?"

"Travelstar," said Justin.

Kelly said, "Duh," shoved Joey with her shoulder, and drank.

Joey picked up his beer and hesitated. "Does it count if it was at a Christmas party?"

"Yeah," said Justin.

"Fine. Does it count if I don't remember?"

"Uh… yeah."

"Fine," Joey said again, and drank.

Justin laughed; so did everybody else. Even Kelly joined in, shaking her head and snatching the joint from Joey. "You remember _fine."_

She was still taking her drag as Alecia asked her question. "Um… I never jacked off _thinking_ about somebody at work."

It took such an effort of will for Justin not to look at Chris while he took his swig that he didn't even notice who else was drinking.

***

Chris lowered the beer bottle and raised his eyebrows at Justin. "Oh, now we're getting to the dirty secrets. Okay, man. Spill it."

"Spill what?" said Justin. He was taking another sip of beer, trying to look all nonchalant, but he looked as guilty as if he'd been caught having sex by his mom. Chris grinned enormously.

"Who? Seriously." Chris looked Justin up and down, considering. "Christina?"

Justin spluttered and almost spat out his mouthful of beer. "No!"

"Then who?" Justin eyed him thoughtfully, and got that look on his face. There was no other way to describe it: it was just "that look", the one he sometimes got when he was trying to work out how best to deal with a difficult customer. "C'mon."

Justin looked away, then back at Chris. "Okay, fine. Janet."

Chris spluttered. _"Jackson?!_ Dude!" He collapsed into laughter for a good minute or so; when he recovered, all he could say was, "Dude. _Dude._ Way to go for the older woman!"

Justin blushed bright red and looked into his beer as the rest of them laughed, and totally didn't ask Chris who he'd been jacking off over. Chris was glad; after a sound reminder that Justin was straight, not to mention eighteen years old, he wasn't sure that the best answer to give him would be, _You._

***

The party broke up a little after three. Chris was just about awake enough to call a taxi for Joey and Kelly, and check and double-check that Alecia was okay to walk the twelve blocks back to her place. "In a straight line," he reminded her, and she called him "Dad" and scowled at him so he figured she would get home fine.

Justin, all of eighteen, could apparently hold his liquor better than any of them - either that or he'd been filling up empty beer bottles with water. Either way, he was the most lucid of all of them by the end of the night. He was still hovering at Chris's door long after Joey and Kelly had collapsed into their cab and Alecia had staggered up the stairs to street level. "Can't I stay over?"

"You'll be fine," said Chris, rubbing his face; what he meant to say was he wasn't quite drunk _enough_ to think that sharing his apartment with a drunk Justin was a good idea. Bad things would happen. "Seriously, J. Go home to your momma."

"My momma lives in Tennessee," Justin pointed out.

"Right. Better get walkin', then."

Justin laughed. "Yeah." Then, without any kind of warning, he grabbed Chris by the shoulders and pulled him against his chest and, incidentally, totally off-balance. Chris had to grab onto Justin to keep from hitting the ground; Justin hugged him hard. "You were awesome tonight, man. I mean it." Then he pulled away, and with a quiet, "G'night," headed up the stairs and outside, shutting the outer door behind him.

Chris closed his apartment door. "Okay," he said to himself, "that was weird."


	2. Step Two: Chris Sucks

**November 26th**

Chris was bored. Very, very bored. Two hours into Monday morning, and the phones were silent and the communal inbox empty. Even JC, who could usually find something work-related to do, was leaning back in his chair, chatting with AJ. The only person Chris could see working was Lance, who had his phone pressed to his ear and was making pacifying noises into the mouthpiece.

Beside Chris, Justin was surfing the Nike web site, no doubt drooling over sneakers he couldn't afford. Chris killed Facebook – he'd thrown a sheep at pretty much everyone he could think of, including Kevin – and leaned to his left to peer at Justin's screen. "Let me guess. Shoe porn?"

Justin rolled his eyes and said, "It's not shoe porn. It's the new Jordans," but the next thing he did was bring up his bookmarks and go somewhere else. From the look of the flashing lights and painfully bright colours, it was a Myspace page. Chris shielded his eyes.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know," he said in a mock-serious voice, putting a brotherly hand on Justin's shoulder. "Lots of people are into feet. It's not so weird."

Justin shrugged off Chris's hand. "I do _not_ like feet!" he protested. "Or even shoes. I'm not a girl. I just want some new kicks." Realizing he'd left himself wide open, Justin suddenly covered his face with his hands.

"I just _bet_ you do, baby," said Chris, never one not to take the open shot.

Justin turned bright red and shoved Chris in the arm. "I like sneakers, that's all," he said. Chris shoved back playfully.

"You have about forty thousand pairs!"

"Twenty-six," Justin corrected him, in the flat monotone of an automatic response.

Chris, judiciously, left it for a few seconds, turning back to his computer screen. He considered, briefly, Googling "shoe porn", but dreaded what he might actually find.

"So your ultimate fantasy is, like, Janet wearing nothing but a pair of Jordans?" he asked casually.

Justin turned away from Myspace to look at Chris, spluttering. "I – oh, for – I _don't like feet,_ Chris! You _suck!"_

Chris laughed, and at that precise moment his phone rang, with perfect timing. He picked up his headset. "What can I say? It's a natural talent." With a sly grin, he hit Answer. "Travelstar, you're through to Chris, how can I help?"

Chris watched Justin out of the corner of his eye. It took him just a couple of seconds to go from puzzlement to wide-eyed shock to a fetching shade of red. Justin looked suddenly away from Chris, and Chris turned back to his computer screen to pay full attention to the call.

***

Justin spent the rest of the morning looking anywhere but at Chris, blindingly embarrassed. It didn't help that Chris was right _there,_ sitting right _next_ to him the whole time, and every now and then he would glance at Justin and smirk a little. Justin would meet his eyes, just for a second, and be overwhelmed all over again and have to look away. Did the way-too-powerful fantasy have to take place right there in the office, with Chris dropping to his knees right where he was and sucking Justin off at his desk? Apparently it did, because Justin couldn't get it out of his head.

Idly, between calls, he entertained the idea of grabbing Chris and kissing him, right in the middle of the office. He'd only kissed one guy before, a random, beer-fuelled thing at his graduation party, and it had been glorious, right up until the moment the guy had backed off saying, shit, he was really drunk, and now he thought about it, it was sort of disturbing; Justin had been crushed. Chris was older, so he'd be a better kisser, and Justin could imagine the scratch of Chris's beard against his face and the warmth of Chris's body pressed against his. Most importantly, the Chris in his head was sober, relaxed, and totally into it. That fantasy was almost as good as Chris actually sucking his dick.

Of course, he could never follow through on the fantasy: Chris would hit him, AJ and JC would laugh, Howie would look at him like he'd just pissed on the carpet, and Lance would fire him on the spot. He liked his new life in Orlando; he didn't want it all to end because the wrong people found out he was gay.

That didn't stop it popping into his head at the wrong moments, though. He'd be stuck on a boring call, listening to some customer drone on and on about what her kids would eat, and all of a sudden Chris would say something next to him, and in his head, it was Chris murmuring something into his stomach between kisses. He'd be pretending to work, doodling the word _Chris_ in the margins of his notepad instead, and for no reason he'd be rock-hard, imagining himself saying Chris's name over and over as he came. He even got hard in the middle of a meeting with _Lance,_ for God's sake.

"Okay," Lance was saying, "how do you think you're doing on the phones?"

Justin had to take a second to re-focus: somewhere in the back of his mind, Chris was expertly sucking his dick. "Uh... yeah. I'm doing okay, I guess." It was the start of his third week and he'd already worked out that one-on-one meetings were boring as hell. No wonder he was thinking about sex. He leaned back in his chair and stretched, realizing just a moment too late that he was making a really obvious display of himself.

Lance raised both eyebrows. "Oh, _boy..._ that's not for me, is it?"

Justin coughed and spluttered and tried to fold himself up again, but succeeded only in falling right out of his chair with an undignified thump. Lance clearly tried not to giggle, but didn't quite manage it. He leaped up to help Justin to his feet. As soon as he got his feet back under him, Justin brushed Lance off and settled himself into another chair. He could feel himself blushing bright red.

"Are you okay?" asked Lance. Justin nodded and pointedly didn't look at him. "Oh, God, hey, it's fine." He reached out to touch Justin's arm and went on, almost under his breath, "Dude, you think I never got a hard-on at work? And, I admit it, these meetings are pretty boring." He raised his eyebrows and dropped them again really fast. "Just, you know, be a _little_ bit subtle."

"God," said Justin, breathing out and daring to meet Lance's eyes. He allowed himself a little smile. "Wow. Okay. That sure dealt with the hard-on."

Lance exploded with laughter, and Justin laughed too, hard and long, burying his face in his hands. They didn't get back to their meeting for five minutes.

***

Chris got a little pang of jealousy when Justin and Lance came back from the meeting room, talking and giggling, heads close together. He had to forcibly remind himself that Justin was straight – one of two straight boys in all the office – and therefore not available for jealous thoughts. Before they made it back to Justin's desk, Nick called Lance over to help out with a tough call. Justin flung himself into his chair, all long limbs and grace, and Chris almost drooled. "Good meeting?" he asked. Good thing he'd had plenty of practise acting casual in front of the drop-dead gorgeous.

Justin grinned as he changed the setting on his phone, back to taking calls. "Yeah, pretty good. Lance is a cool guy."

"Lance is a dork," Chris said, grinning back. "But he's a nice dork." He glanced over to where Lance was putting on Nick's headset. "Good guy, too."

"Yeah," said Justin.

Before Chris could think of a way to carry on the conversation, Justin's phone rang. While he talked, Chris opened new email from Alecia. There was no title on this one, and just a single line of text above her signature:

_Hey. When Justin says he's straight, do you believe a word of it?_

Chris glanced at Justin out of the corner of his eye. Justin, engrossed in trying to find somebody's booking, didn't notice. He hit Reply before he even knew what he was going to write in response. His fingers, seemed to, though.

_Sure. You think there's some reason not to?_

He glanced over at Alecia who, true to form, was talking into her headset. She'd dyed her hair bubblegum-pink over the weekend. He hit Facebook for a few minutes and kicked Joey's zombie ass until new email appeared from Alecia.

_Just wanted to make sure I wasn't treading on your toes, old dude. :)_

Chris glanced up, ready to make a rude face at her, but she was still talking, totally focused on her screen. Damn that girl and her ability to multi-task. He thought for a minute before typing:

_Go for it, Pink._

Okay. Even if it felt bad, it made sense: if Justin was going to go on a date, it might as well be with Alecia, who was hot and smart and would show him a good time.

Justin was still on the phone. Chris sat back in his chair, sighed, and willed his own phone to ring.


	3. Step Three: Take My Car

**December 7th**

Alecia stayed late after work to fix her make-up. Chris knew this because he was there late too, figuring out the sort of complicated complaint that only came in when they got crazy-busy in December. She came out of the bathroom as Chris was waiting for his computer to shut down, feeling in his top drawer for his wallet, keys, and a can of Coke he knew was in there. "Still here?" she said.

He nodded. "You too. Hey, you look great."

She smiled. Her hair was blonde this week, and she ran a hand through it as she said, "Thanks." There was a little pause; Chris laid his hand on the Coke, using the other hand to pocket wallet and keys. "I'm, uh, I'm going out with Justin tonight."

"Cool," said Chris, with what he thought was an admirable veneer of calm. It still _sucked_ that he had to be straight and go out with girls but, really, that was how it was and he'd moved on. "Where?"

She shrugged. "A movie, I guess," she said flatly.

"Wow, you sound psyched."

Chris cracked open his Coke as they headed for the door; he held it open for Alecia, and she rolled her eyes at him, but went through ahead of him anyway. "It's a little weird," she said. "Like, I don't know. I mean, he's cool at work and all, but when we're alone together, he's... it's like he's real nervous." She looked away. She actually sounded a little upset. "Three dates, he's kissed me twice. I don't know _what_ the hell's up."

"If I tell you something," said Chris as they headed out across the parking lot, "will you promise not to tell him I said it?" Alecia looked at him with both eyebrows raised, so he said, "I'm serious."

"Uh, okay."

He lowered his voice anyway. "I'm pretty sure the kid's a virgin. I mean, c'mon, never had sex in a _car?"_

"Oh," said Alecia blankly, and then, a little more emphatically, "Oh. _Right._ That explains a lot."

Chris smiled. "Hot girl like you? He's probably scared out of his mind." Alecia smiled, looking reassured. They stopped at his car, and on impulse he reached into his back pocket and tossed her the keys. She caught them easily. "Take it," he said, and exaggerated his smile to a leer. "Have a good time tonight, okay?"

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Just don't trash it, okay, I can't afford to replace this baby."

She grinned. "How the hell did you afford it in the first place?"

"A friend of a friend needed to sell it quick," he said, patting the hood affectionately. He loved his PG: it was big and comfortable, and there was lots of space to have sex in the back seat. Or the front seat. Whichever.

"Nice," Alecia said. "Want a ride home? It's on the way."

Chris took a sip of his Coke and shook his head. "I'll get the bus." He walked away, and when he turned around after a few steps, Alecia was still just standing by the car, looking stunned. "And make him wear a condom!" he called, and she laughed, and so did he.

Since Justin had made that confession, two weeks ago now, Chris had entertained a fair few fantasies of introducing him to the pleasures of getting laid in a car. He guessed that doing it by proxy was better than nothing.

It still _sucked_ that he had to date girls.

***

Alecia took him for a drive after the movie, but she didn't talk. She was totally focused when she was driving, music playing loud, staring almost unblinking at the road. Justin was grateful for the time to think.

He'd been a bit surprised when she showed up driving Chris's car. He wasn't complaining, though; it was a great car, spacious and beautiful, and it smelled like Chris. He'd been in the car just once before, halfway through his second week at Travelstar, when it had been raining like a monsoon and his own car had suddenly died that morning, halfway to work. Chris had taken pity on him and given him a ride home, talking the whole time – a running bitchy commentary that had Justin in fits of laughter and made him forget all about the rain and his stifling one-room apartment and broken-down car – and Justin had almost kissed him on the cheek before getting out of the car.

He'd never felt that impulse with Alecia, that was the problem.

It wasn't that he didn't like her. He did. She was a lot of fun, and he could see that she was attractive, if you liked girls, which he didn't. It wasn't even that he didn't like kissing her: it felt okay, and she smelled nice, but it wasn't anything like the bone-deep, visceral thrill he got just _thinking_ about kissing Chris. Somehow, though, he'd thought that when he was done with high school, he'd be done with dating for the sake of appearance, and with all the other shit you put yourself through just to be liked. Then he'd met the real world, where he was pretty sure telling the guy at Disney World he was gay was the reason he hadn't gotten the job. He hadn't been prepared at _all_ for a world where, instead of putting yourself through the shit to be liked, you had to do it just to make a living.

Presumably there were gay people out there living normal lives and making it work; but he didn't know any, so he had no idea how to get started. Which meant that here he was, dating a woman from work, because he didn't know what else he was supposed to do.

"Justin?"

Somewhere in the middle of all that, Alecia had stopped the car and started talking to him. Justin blinked. "Sorry."

She touched his arm, gently, affectionate. "It's cool. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." He smiled at her, a little uncertainly, and looked around.

They were parked on a deserted street by the gate to a park. It was after nine now, so the gate was padlocked shut, and it was set in black iron fences, taller than he was, with spikes on top. He looked up at them and thought about climbing over them, an idle fantasy of running away. Not from Alecia. Just from... stuff.

He looked back at Alecia, and she was looking at him. Straight in the eye, unashamed, everything up-front. That was Alecia all over. He envied her. She said, "Okay, I want you to be honest."

"Okay," he said. He was a bit bewildered by that, but, okay.

"Do you like me?"

He blinked, surprised. "Of course I do," he said, and felt a small sense of victory that it wasn't a lie.

She smiled, looking frankly relieved, and he instantly felt like a heel. "Cool," she said simply, and leaned over to kiss him. He kissed back, putting his hands on her waist, and she ran her fingers through his hair. He tried, he honestly tried, to get into it, the way he did in his head with Chris. When she parted her lips, he responded, but he felt nothing. He still felt nothing as their tongues tangled together, nothing but mild boredom, nothing until the nasty shock when she suddenly put one hand on his crotch. He started, breaking the kiss, and she took her hand away and sat back in her seat, panting a little.

"Too fast?" she said.

He took a breath and realized he was breathing hard too, but not from the kiss. He was scared, he realized. "It's..." She looked at him, looking bemused, and then, when he didn't say anything, sort of annoyed. He tried again. "It's not that."

"Well, what the hell is it?" She looked genuinely pissed now. Justin's breath caught in his throat. "If you didn't want to go out with me, Justin, you could have just said when I asked you. I can really do without the bullshit."

"It's not you," he managed, still not quite able to breathe like a normal person. Alecia folded her arms and stared him down, and he found that he could say it, okay, he could say it, but he couldn't look at her while he did. "I'm... I'm gay."

It was only the second time he'd said it to anyone. He'd said it aloud plenty of times: over and over in his room, aged fifteen, when he'd first figured it out; and over and over again, when he'd planned on telling his mom, his teacher, one of his girlfriends, his best friend. In the end, the first person he'd said it to had been the guy at Disney World, who'd just said, "Okay," and asked another question. Alecia wasn't saying anything. He couldn't even look up and find out what her expression was.

When she did finally say something, it was, "I'm gonna fucking _kill_ Chris."

That threw him totally. "Chris?"

"If this is one of his stupid jokes, I'm gonna put him in this car and drive it into the fucking _swamp."_ Justin risked a glance up, and she looked as angry as she sounded. "He put you up to this, didn't he?"

Justin, still not breathing right, gasped, "No – I – you can't – you can't tell him." That stopped her in her tracks: now she just stared at him, still looking pissed as hell. "Please don't tell anyone," he said. He felt about as pathetic as he sounded.

"Chris doesn't know?"

_"Please_ don't tell him," Justin begged. "Or anyone at work."

"Why not?"

"I'll... I'll lose my job."

Alecia barked with laughter, but didn't smile. "Are you _insane?_ Who would fire you for being gay?"

That one was easy. "Lance."

"You are not serious," she said, but he was. "Lance? Lance Bass? Lance, Queen of Travelstar?" Justin stared at her. "He's about as gay as they come, babe. If he fires you for that, I'll kill him myself."

"Lance is gay?"

Alecia raised her eyebrows. Then she smiled, at last. Justin found himself smiling back, still feeling a little bit shaky. "Okay, fine. I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to, J. But seriously. They might give you a little grief, but no one's actually gonna care." She shook her head and started the car. "C'mon. I'll give you a ride home."

***

It wasn't even ten yet when Chris heard the car pull up outside and, a minute later, his doorbell. When he opened the door Alecia was there, car keys in hand, looking, not totally distraught, but a little shaken. "You wanna come in?" he said.

She shook her head. "No, thanks," she said, and shoved the keys into his hand.

"What happened?"

Alecia shrugged. "We broke up. Well, you know. We weren't really together, just. We went out a couple of times. Whatever."

"I'm sorry, kid," Chris said. He put the keys in his pocket. "I think you should come in. Or at least, I should drive you home."

"I'm good," she said. "Twelve blocks. But thanks."

"Did he screw you around?" Chris asked sharply.

She smiled. "No, not really. G'night, Chris."

"Night, babe." He leaned against the doorframe and watched as she walked away, right until she'd turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. When she was gone, he slammed his fist into the frame and said, under his breath, "I'm gonna kill the little fucker."

***

Buzzed with caffeine, Chris took the stairs back down to his apartment two at a time. He'd been trying to write new material all night, but it all kept coming back to jokes about inappropriate crushes at work, and then he had to turn Justin into a girl, which was just weird, and totally missed the point of all the jokes he wanted to tell. This, somehow, in the midst of telling himself that he'd moved on.

He always drank too much Coke and ate too many chips when he was writing, and now empty cans and packets were strewn all over his kitchen table. Chris started to gather them up and, as an afterthought, took the pages he'd written tonight and tossed them in the trash, too.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to try to write jokes when you were lonely, pissed off and horny. Chris was all three tonight.

He turned the radio on to keep him company while he cleaned up, but he just got distracted by it, switched stations three times, and eventually shut it off again, humming to himself while he washed the dishes. After a night of trying to write jokes that weren't about Justin, and trying not to imagine Justin having sex with Alecia in the car, it wasn't all that surprising that his head was full of Justin. It was even less surprising that the pictures of Justin in his head were making him even hornier. It was weirdly embarrassing, he thought, getting hard while doing your own dishes.

After finishing the dishes he flung himself onto the couch and hunted for the remote. There was, of course, nothing on TV but reruns and stupid reality shows. There was nothing, not even a movie that could distract him enough to stop him thinking about Justin. He ended up letting a stupid late-night talk show run in the background, some movie star or other rambling on as Chris closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and slid one hand down over the front of his pants.

The movies playing on the inside of Chris's eyelids starred Justin quite often lately. In this one, he was sprawled across the back seat of Chris's car, on his back, knees bent, moaning and writhing as Chris kissed his stomach. Chris squeezed his own cock gently and tried to change the picture, telling himself that it really wasn't appropriate to be fantasising about his straight, much-younger colleague. The movie in his head, though, rolled on: he could imagine Justin's hand on his head, pushing down just a little. Justin, squirming and desperate, moaning _please._

Chris gave in and unzipped his fly. The movie changed in his head, and it was one of Justin's big, gentle hands reaching in and taking hold of his cock, long fingers teasing. Chris let out a ragged breath: you couldn't really tease yourself, but his cock seemed to appreciate the effort, and in his mind Justin was doing a great job. He thought of all things he wanted: Justin's lips wet against his neck, hands on his ass, erection pressing into his stomach. Justin, eyes closed and mouth open, as Chris moved his mouth down. He wanted to know what Justin looked like when he came, because in his head it looked pretty fucking good.

It didn't last long; all of a sudden he was just there, coming, imagining Justin doing the same, thrusting hard into Chris's mouth and crying out. When Chris opened his eyes a beer commercial was playing. He breathed out; maybe he should have drugged himself unconscious with beer tonight instead of getting all hyped up on Coke.

It wasn't until he was reaching for a handful of Kleenex that he remembered he was supposed to be pissed at Justin for screwing Alecia around.

Yeah, sure. He'd moved on just fine.


	4. Step Four: Chickenshit

**December 11th**

Tuesday nights, a bunch of them usually went out for beers and pool. It was Justin's fifth week at Travelstar, and it was the first time he'd seriously considered missing out: saying he had a date or was taking a class at the Y. Something. The problem was Chris was hardly talking to him, and hadn't been since the start of the week. Justin figured that Alecia had told him, after all, and ever since that had occurred to him – 2 o'clock that morning – he'd been in a state of semi-panic. Eventually Chris would tell the office and then Justin would lose his job.

But both Joey and Lance had asked him if he was coming, and both times he'd said, "Sure," so here he was, beer in hand, playing pool with Nick while Chris talked to Lance and Joey in the corner. Alecia was at the jukebox, trying to persuade the limited selection in the pool hall to turn up something she liked.

Nick potted a ball and straightened up to scope out his next shot as Justin took a sip of his beer. "So I heard you and Alecia broke up," he said conversationally.

"Yeah," Justin said. "Well, no. We were never really..."

Nick nodded sagely. "Sucks." He bent over for another shot, which meant Chris came into view behind him. Justin watched while he could. Chris was still talking, beer bottle in hand, and from the look on his face, he was bitching. Lance was looking calm, the kind of enforced calm he used on irate customers, and Joey put one hand on Chris's arm to reassure him. Chris brushed it off violently and caught sight of Justin watching him; Justin looked away sharply, focusing his attention on Nick's shot. Nick missed.

The next ten minutes were taken up with kicking Nick's ass. Justin was good at pool and didn't see any reason to hide it; Chris and Alecia could both give him a run for his money, but unless he was out of his mind on vodka, Nick was pretty easy to beat. When he was done, he took a hefty swig of his beer – courage – and walked over to Chris.

Chris glanced up at him, looking all kinds of surprised, and a little bit angry.

"Want to play a game?" Justin asked.

Chris looked at Lance, who gave him a reproving look, and then sighed. "Sure thing."

Justin kept meaning to start a conversation, he really did, but every time he tried to say something, Chris was concentrating on his shot, or chalking his cue, or not even looking Justin's way, so the words just kept sticking in his throat. Apart from an occasional, "Your shot," they played pretty much in silence. Justin wanted to say something, but short of coming right out and asking Chris if he had a problem with Justin being gay, he couldn't think of a way in. It was a good game, short and pretty even: Justin kept missing stupidly easy shots, but so did Chris, until they ended up with just the eight ball on the table.

Justin took his shot, slow and careful, and set the cue ball sailing across the table at just the wrong angle: it hit the black and bounced it off the cushion instead of right into the hole, leaving Chris with a stunningly easy shot. He bent over to bang his head on the table. "Oh, shit."

Chris actually laughed, and Justin laughed too; it didn't quite feel like they were cool, but some of the tension was worked off. He looked at Chris, who smiled and batted his eyelashes at Justin. "Are you trying to make up with me?" he asked, walking to the table.

Alecia had told him, then. Justin looked Chris right in the eye, unamused. He was hurt, even. He'd really hoped that no matter what Chris thought, he wouldn't make fun. Clearly he'd been wrong. "Absolutely not," he said, which was as close as he could come to civil, and turned to put away his cue.

Chris potted the eight ball and stalked away.

***

_"Fucking_ Justin," Chris spat. _"Fucking_ little arrogant homophobic son of a _bitch."_

Lance said, "Hey," and Joey said, "Dude," and one of them pushed him a fresh beer as he threw himself into an empty seat. Chris drank half of it in one swallow, head tipped back, and caught Lance's smirk as he put the beer back on the table.

"Some day you're gonna make a lucky guy real happy, you know that?" Lance said.

Chris raised one eyebrow. "You want me to deep-throat the bottle, Bass?"

Joey spat some of his own beer back into the bottle. "Hey, some of us are trying to be straight over here, man."

Lance grinned at him sunnily, and Chris felt better enough from the beer to chuckle. He glanced over at the pool table – thank heaven for small mercies, Justin was gone. He turned back to Lance, who was looking at him with mother-hen eyes. He sighed. "I wasn't being a jerk. Seriously. I was just messing around, and he went all bitch-ass on me."

"Uh huh," said Lance, with a level of sympathy that Chris just _knew_ was faked. Sure enough, Lance broke into a grin after just a second.

Chris turned back to his beer. "Oh, fuck you," he said.

***

Justin took as long as he could carefully putting his cue away before going to look for Alecia. She was on the other side of the bar, perched on a table and chatting to Nick. "Hey," she said brightly. "Nick says you kicked his butt. Again."

Justin smiled weakly. "Can we talk?" He jerked his head towards the door.

"Sure," she said, but she didn't move. He tried to stare her down, but she just stared him down right back. "Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Nicky."

"It's cool," said Nick, shrugging. He grabbed his drink and got up; as he walked off Justin gratefully took his seat.

"Okay. What?" asked Alecia dangerously.

"Chris knows," Justin said flatly.

Alecia beamed. "Hey, that's _awesome._ Nice work."

"I didn't tell him," said Justin, looking at her accusingly. "Somebody else did."

"Sure wasn't me," said Alecia. She hopped off the table and sat down next to Justin. "Hey, I swear. I didn't say a thing. What happened? Did he say, 'so, you're gay, then', or what?"

"Nah," said Justin. "Just... you know, he was Chris about it. Made fun."

Alecia stood up. "Stay here," she said. "I'll fix it."

Before Justin had time to protest, she'd already gone boucing off towards Chris.

***

Lance and Joey had headed off for a game, leaving Chris alone with beer and his thoughts. Okay, no, it wasn't enough that Justin was straight, or that he was eighteen years old, or even that they worked together; he had to be a bigoted little son of a bitch, too. Chris always chose the best people to get a crush on.

It was bizarre, because surely Justin _knew_ that half the guys in the office were gay. Maybe he was one of these guys that was totally fine with gay people until you made him notice that there were some nearby. That wouldn't be totally out of the question for a kid from Tennessee.

"Hey," said Alecia, throwing herself into a seat beside him.

He smiled at her. "Hey, you. Having a good night?"

"Better than you or Justin, looks like," she said. "Listen, give him a break, okay?"

"Any particular reason I should?" Chris asked, raising one eyebrow at her. "Because last I checked, he was being a total ass."

"He's having a hard time right now," said Alecia. "He's been in Florida, like, a month and a half, he never lived away from home before. You remember what that's like, right?"

Chris sighed. He remembered, all right. "Yeah," he said. "It's just, you know. There's a whole bunch of stuff I could do without tonight, and Justin Timberlake bringing the Bible Belt to my door is definitely on the list."

"Maybe he just doesn't get it?"

Chris smirked. "More likely, he just figured out I'm gay, and now he's trying to forget he ever talked to me about basketball."

"Actually," Alecia said, smiling, "I'm pretty sure he'd really love you to go over and talk to him." She jerked her head towards the bar. Something leapt in Chris's chest and he looked at Alecia, surprised, then realized he must have read that totally upside-down. She'd made it sound for all the world like Justin was waiting over there for Chris to go make his move. Straight boy, he reminded himself.

Still, there was no point pretending he wasn't going to go. "Okay, fine," he said, trying to make it sound like a chore, "I'll talk to him. When I've finished my beer."

***

Justin ended up sitting at the bar, watching Lance and Joey play pool, not able to even look over towards where Alecia had joined Chris. Nick was sitting beside him, pretty drunk and telling Brian about how his girlfriend didn't get along with his roommate – or his roommate didn't get along with his girlfriend – whichever, it was a topic Justin had exactly no interest in. Still, it beat sitting alone, so he half-listened to their conversation, drinking a lot faster than he really should. After a few minutes the two of them took off, and Justin managed to say "G'night," without slurring too much. Then he was just alone with his quarter-full bottle of beer, trying hard not to touch the sticky surface of the bar too much.

Pool night was usually a lot more fun. Then again, pool night usually involved a lot more goofing off with Chris.

Justin was just about to order another beer, thanking God for good fake ID, when Chris slid onto the bar stool beside him. "Okay," he said without preamble, "I forgive you." Justin turned, still registering that he was there at all, and Chris went on. "You're still a jackass, but I forgive you."

Justin looked at him for a very long moment, trying through his drunken haze to figure out exactly what was going on. Chris didn't seem like he was about to punch him, though, and he felt too drunk to argue, so he said, "Yeah. Same here."

Chris nodded and called the bartender over to order two beers. When they came, he slid one over to Justin. "You coming to the table?" he asked. "I think we're all too drunk for more pool."

Justin nodded and blindly followed Chris to where Alecia, Joey and Lance were talking and drinking. He and Chris ended up next to each other again. The first thing Chris did when he sat down was crack a stupid joke, folding the rest of them up with laughter, and after that everything was okay.

It was almost midnight when Alecia said, out of the blue, "Okay, so I have a question." The rest of them turned to her. "Who here has experience with the same sex?"

"Experience of what, hon?" Lance asked, waggling his eyebrows, and Alecia poked her tongue out at him.

"Is this like I Never?" said Joey. "We have to drink?"

"Nah," she said. "Just say. Lance first." Lance was on her right, and Justin on her left; everybody would have to say something before Justin did. Justin was a little grateful.

"Um, hello? Gay here. So that'd be a yes."

"Anyone we know?" said Chris, and Lance gave him a look. _"Apart_ from me, okay," Chris said. Justin turned to look at Chris, and he knew his eyebrows were now somewhere in his hairline. Chris and Lance? Chris with guys?

"Uh, well," Lance was saying. "JC. You know, a couple times."

"Seriously?" said Alecia.

"Okay, game stops, new gossip in town," said Joey.

"When?" Chris asked.

Lance smiled and blushed a little. "A couple weeks ago. And Sunday night. It's, um. It's nice. I have no idea where it's going, but..."

Joey smiled at Lance, genuinely. "Cool, man. JC's a nice guy, I hope it works out."

"Yeah," said Chris, picking up his beer. "Good for you."

"It's not really a thing yet," Lance protested. "It's a pre-thing. A proto-thing. Maybe."

Alecia was smiling too. "Okay, moving on. Joey?"

Joey didn't look embarrassed to say, "With guys? Sure, a few times when I was a kid. But I'm with Kelly now."

Alecia nodded. "Uh huh. Chris?"

Justin looked at Chris with interest, and Chris said, "Ah, I'm only straight when I'm drunk."

They folded up with laughter again. Somewhere in the middle of trying to regain control of his diaphragm, Justin managed to say, "Man, you should say more of that stuff on stage."

Chris gave him a smile of pure cynicism. "Wouldn't play," he said. Justin let it lie, because he knew what was coming next.

Sure enough, Alecia turned on him. "What about you, Justin?"

Justin took a breath and tried, really tried, to mention the guy he'd made out with at graduation, but what actually came out was, "No, never," and he didn't look up because he knew Alecia would be shooting daggers at him.

He knew he was right about the look on Alecia's face. It became obvious when Chris said, "Aw, c'mon, he can't help being the only straight guy at Travelstar."

Lance giggled. "He's really straight? Damn, now I have to fire him."

Justin laughed dutifully, a little bit too drunk to cope with the weird new world opening up in front of him. It wasn't just Lance; it was Chris too, and there was JC, and Joey, and apparently every other guy in the place. He got up unsteadily and put his half-empty beer down heavily on the table. Chris looked up at him sharply. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," he said, "I just, uh." That was about as far as he could get. He turned and managed, just about, not to run for the bathroom, where he shut himself in a cubicle and didn't throw up.

***

Alecia and Lance were waiting for him when he emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, feeling a bit calmer, but no more sober despite all the cold water he'd splashed on his face. Alecia took his wrist and led him to a table out of sight of the others. When he was sitting, Lance thrust a glass of water into his hand. He took it, gratefully, and drank.

"You," said Alecia when he put the glass down, "are a total chickenshit."

He looked at her. She had her elbows on the table, head propped up on her folded hands. "I couldn't," he said. "Even after... Is Chris really gay?"

Alecia and Lance looked at each other. Alecia grinned; Lance blinked. "You got a little crush, dontcha?"

"Oh, _that_ explains a lot," Lance said. He looked at Justin seriously. "Why didn't you just tell us? That you're gay, I mean, not your deepest fantasies about Chris. Those, I can live without."

Justin smiled weakly. "I just. I don't know. I was starting to think I was just a big freak."

"Well, you _are,"_ said Alecia, "but that's got nothing to do with being gay." Justin laughed at that. Then he carefully met Lance's eyes.

"You and Chris?"

"Oh, God. For like a week. Worst idea _ever."_ Lance grinned. "You're in no danger from me, man."

Justin could relax a bit after that. While he finished his water, Lance and Alecia both insisted that he should talk to Chris. "Chris is a nice guy," Lance kept saying earnestly, leaning forward. "Really, he's a great guy." Justin, all of a sudden, sort of liked the idea of coming out to Chris. And of something maybe coming of that. After all, it was pretty hard to date a guy who thought you were straight.

Eventually, Justin put down the empty glass and said, "Thanks. I really oughta get home."

"You feeling better?" Lance asked.

"Yeah."

Alecia grabbed Justin's wrist again and pulled him to his feet. "Come say goodbye to Chris and Joey," she said, and dragged him across the bar towards the table. He had to use most of his concentration to stay standing all the way there. Chris and Joey both looked up at him curiously.

"Are you okay?" said Joey.

"Yeah," Justin said. "I'm good. I just really need to go home." At that point he had to hold onto the back of Chris's chair to stay standing. "Whoa. I think I'm drunk."

Chris got up, looking concerned. "Jesus, you're hammered," he said. "You sure as hell better not be driving."

"Nah," said Justin. "Car's still fucked."

"Really? Ouch," Chris said. He grabbed Justin's arm to steady him. "C'mon, I'll help you get home in one piece. See you tomorrow, guys."

***

Chris's place was on the way to Justin's, so Chris reluctantly agreed to let Justin walk home alone from his place. He still seemed a little too drunk for Chris's liking, but there was only so much adolescent whining a guy could take. By the time they turned onto Chris's block, the fresh air had cleared Chris's head a little.

"Did you mean what you said back there?" he asked, experimentally.

"Sure," said Justin. Chris was pretty sure Justin had no idea what the topic of conversation was.

"About my routine," he said. "You really think I should do more of that stuff?"

Justin looked at him and seemed a little more focused on the conversation. "Yeah. You're, like, naturally funny. You should use that."

"Yeah, but..." He shrugged. "It's like, I'm not so sure that's gonna play so well to your average audience. You know what I mean?"

"It's funny," Justin insisted. "It's, whaddayacallit. Subversive."

Chris smiled. "I'm not sure they really want subversive at bar mitzvahs," he said. "Plus, I start saying that kind of stuff, I become the gay comic. I mean, it's one thing being out at work, right? But if you're trying to get people to notice you."

"Maybe it's important," said Justin.

Chris smirked. "Maybe I'm not a public service," he said.

"Yeah, but... It's not about that, is it? It's about being yourself. I mean, the thing is. In real life, you're funny, because you're you. You know, you're comfortable. But on stage, you're pretending to be this guy that you're not, like, you're pretending to be straight, right, and so maybe you're not as funny because you're not, you know, being _you."_ Chris blinked; for a drunk teenager, the kid might be making a bit of sense.

"So basically, you think if I was gayer on stage I'd be funnier?"

"Yeah, maybe."

Okay, maybe not so much with the sense. "I'm not exactly Elton John," said Chris with a sigh.

"But it's important," said Justin. "To be you. Yourself, I mean. To have people know who you are."

Chris shrugged. "Your friends, I guess, it's important that they know who you are. Not so sure about my audience."

When they reached Chris's building, they stopped outside the door, and Chris lingered a little. It was that time of the night again: Justin was drunk and wavering on his feet, and he wondered if Justin was going to ask to stay again. He hoped not. Too much temptation, and too much alcohol in the blood to put up much of a fight. "You sure you're okay to get home, J?"

"I'm sure," said Justin, and didn't go anywhere. Chris looked up at him, trying to figure out what was going on, and that was the moment that, clumsily and far too quick, Justin bent down to kiss him. Their lips met for just a moment, and all Chris had time to be aware of was the brush of something soft and wet against his lips, maybe a little scratch of stubble, and then Justin was straightening up again, looking down at him like a scared rabbit.

Wow. Okay, _wow._ Shock to the system. "Um," said Chris dumbly.

The next thing he knew, Justin was running, long legs taking him at high speed, if not in quite a straight line, up the street to his own apartment building. "Justin!" Chris shouted, but he was too drunk to run after him. Soon enough, Justin was out of sight.

Chris sighed and fumbled for his keys.

***

When Justin finally got home he was still panting from running most of the sixteen blocks home, and then climbing eight flights of stairs. He closed the door and put his back up against it, letting his breath get back to normal, and trying to get his head straight. He was very drunk. And that had been _real_ stupid. He made a point of slowly and carefully putting his sneakers away under the chair, before he sat down heavily on the bed and picked up the phone.

He sat there for a few moments, just listening to the dial tone, before starting to punch the number in, running his other hand through his hair. He was aware it was after midnight, and this wasn't a great time to be making phone calls, but he'd just screwed everything up royally and he needed to talk to someone who would understand.

He dialled for Tennessee, and then the number. It rang, once, twice, three times, before it was picked up with a sleepy, "Hello?"

For a moment he couldn't say anything.

"Is someone there?" A pause. "Justin, is that you?"

He took a deep breath, and managed somehow to keep his voice from cracking. "Momma?"


	5. Step Five: Intervention

**December 14th**

It was almost lunchtime, and Justin was washing his coffee cup and avoiding Chris. _Still_ avoiding Chris, even though everyone, even Trace, had followed Alecia's lead and called him a total chickenshit. He'd expected coming out to Trace to be real hard, but after he'd spent five minutes stuttering out the words, Trace had said that, dude, he knew that already, and asked what the fuck else was new. He'd poured out the whole horrible situation with Chris, and it had been surprisingly like chewing over girl trouble in high school.

The general consensus – from Alecia, Trace, his mom, and even Lance, who by the way he had not asked – was that he should talk to Chris.

"Hey," said JC's voice from behind him. "How you doing, cat?"

"Good," said Justin automatically.

"Good. Hey, listen. What's up with you and Chris?"

Justin looked at him, surprised. "Nothing," he said.

"It's something." JC leaned past Justin to grab a clean cup. "You guys started out real tight, but this week you've barely talked at all." Justin developed a little wry smile at that; it was amazing how you could screw things up with someone while barely talking to them. "Did you have a fight?"

"No," said Justin. This, at least, was the truth.

"You should talk to him, man," said JC, putting a friendly hand on Justin's shoulder. "Whatever it is, just talk to him, get things straight. Communication is the key. Friendship's based on trust, right?"

"Right," said Justin.

"So," said JC. Justin thought he was going to keep talking, but Lance's hands appeared on JC's waist, and JC turned, grinning. "Hi."

"Hi," said Lance, grinning too. "Put that away, I'm taking you out for lunch." Obediently, JC put the cup down and let Lance take his hand. Lance led JC away, only turning back briefly to say, "See you later, Justin."

Justin finished washing his cup and reluctantly headed back to his desk. By the time he got there, Chris was already heading out with Joey. Justin flung himself into his seat and grabbed his headset.

Talk to Chris. Right.

***

"Justin _fucking_ Timberlake," Chris said. He swigged back the last of his Coke, wishing there was some kind of alcohol in it. He had to be back at work in twenty minutes, so it probably wasn't a great idea. Opposite him, Joey was eating fries with his fingers and giving him a look.

"Shouldn't you maybe talk to him?" Joey asked. "I mean, the guy kissed you."

"And then ran off. Fucking cocktease." Chris rested his elbows on the tabletop and stole one of Joey's fries. "Fucking straight boys." He glanced across the cafeteria; JC and Lance were in a booth by the window, doing a hell of a lot of giggling and holding hands. That wasn't helping. "Fucking _kids,"_ he added for good measure.

Joey grinned. "So the problem would be you're not fucking anybody? Or that you're not fucking Justin?"

Chris shook his head, looking intently at his empty plate. "I actually _like_ him," he said. "Heh. God help me."

"He's a good kid," said Joey gently. "But, you know. He's eighteen. Give him a break, maybe he's still got stuff to figure out."

He was taking his time about it; three fucking days, almost, and Justin hadn't said a word that wasn't directly work-related. Chris didn't even know where to begin. "I'm not gonna be his teenage foray into the gay experience," he said. "You know, the one he tells his girlfriends about to make himself look cool. I did that already, it wasn't fun."

Joey put a hand on his arm. "I know, man. Hey, I don't want you to get hurt, either, okay?"

"Yeah. I know." He pulled his arm back and sat back in his seat. "I just," he waved his hand in the air, grasping at what he wanted to say, "I'm sick of getting screwed around. He's so fucking back and forth, you know, he messes around with Alecia, then he gets all up in my face, and now he's backing off entirely. I don't get it." Joey was looking at him sympathetically. He gave up, putting his head in his hands.

Joey didn't say anything, just pushed his plate, still half-full of fries, towards Chris. Typical Joe: when in doubt, offer food. Chris shook his head, then thought better of it and grabbed a generous handful, dumping them on his own plate. Joey grinned and grabbed the ketchup, which was a substance Joey was seriously going to drown in one day if he didn't watch out. "Take this as a promise to get you drunk at the party tonight," Joey said, smiling.

Chris was in the middle of adding salt when Lance's voice said, "Hey." He looked up: JC was just behind Lance. Chris smiled.

"Hey," Joey said. "Fries? I have plenty."

"No thanks, we just ate," said Lance, sitting down next to Joey. JC took the seat next to Chris, and waved a dismissing hand when Joey pointed at his plate. "Please tell me you're planning to stop making me insane soon," Lance said.

"Huh?" said Chris.

"You have. To talk. To Justin. Because the two of you, seriously. Either get it on or have a screaming match and kill one another. From a human resources standpoint I prefer the former, but really, at this point, whichever." Lance folded his arms, speech made.

"Fine," said Chris. Lance's eyebrows arched elegantly. "Really. Fine. I'll talk to him."

"Today," said Lance firmly.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude."

***

In his defence, the afternoon was insanely busy, so even if he'd wanted to talk to Justin, Chris didn't have the chance. They were both on the phone all afternoon, taking last-minute booking after last-minute booking; Chris barely had time to look Justin's way, never mind say two words to him together. When they finally closed up at six, Chris was dying for a beer or three.

On Christmas party night, nobody was dumb enough to drive: the bar they went to was within walking distance, so Chris left his car in the lot at work, with vague plans in his head to get a cab home or, in an emergency, walk. In a real emergency, he guessed Joey would take him in.

This year, Lance had managed to rent the back room, so they had some space to themselves, not to mention a dance floor of sorts. Chris headed straight for the bar, already reaching for his wallet and hoping to avoid Lance for a little bit. He knew he probably wouldn't have much luck when JC appeared beside him. "Hey."

"Hey!" said Chris, pleased. "You never come to stuff."

"Yeah, well," said JC, smiling. "I figured it was time. Christmas, and so on."

"Plus, Lance?"

JC grinned hugely. "Plus, Lance. You want a beer?"

"Thanks."

He sat at the bar with JC a while, drinking and chatting, which was cool: he didn't often get the chance to talk to JC. JC even seemed genuinely interested when, in attempt to keep the topic far away from Justin, he started talking about his stand-up. JC, it turned out, played guitar and sang in coffee houses sometimes, and Chris made the required noises about coming to see him play. He might even do it, he thought; he'd bet good money that sweet, intense JC wrote his own weird-ass songs.

While they were talking, Chris saw Justin coming in. Lance was with him, and looked like he was holding onto Justin tight to keep him from bolting. Chris caught JC's eye and nodded, and JC excused himself to bounce over to Lance, beaming. Chris watched JC and Lance kissing hello – they couldn't have been apart fifteen minutes – and tried to work out how long it had been since he'd had that kind of new-relationship enthusiasm. He didn't even come up with a figure by the time Lance appeared beside him, hanging onto a bewildered-looking Justin with one hand and JC with the other. As if choreographed, Alecia and Joey appeared on his other side. Joey put a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Okay," said Chris, perturbed, "what the hell is this?"

"This is an intervention," Joey said.

"What?" said Justin. He met Chris's eyes, as if maybe Chris could get him out of this, and Chris gave him a helpless look back.

"Chris," said Lance. "This is Justin. He has a crush on you."

"Justin," said Alecia, "this is Chris. He has a crush on you, too."

"Okay?" said Lance. "Okay. Now please. Stop driving us all crazy and have sex, or _something."_

Chris sighed. "Dude, thanks, but this is nothing we didn't already know, so it doesn't really help that much."

He looked at Justin, who was still looking confused as all hell. Justin said, "You have a crush on me?"

"Um," said Chris, flustered. "Um, yeah. But listen. I'm not gonna be your straight-boy experiment. Go get laid in a club. Still not helpful, Lance."

He'd expected Justin to get all deflated and go away, but instead his face cleared and he beamed, hugely. Chris blinked: the thousand-watt Timberlake grin was quite something. "That's not a problem. I'm gay, dude. No interest in girls whatever."

"Certified," Alecia said.

Chris looked at her, and she nodded. Justin was still beaming on the edge of his vision. It was like someone had flipped a switch: suddenly nervous, diffident Justin was all poise and confidence. "But you said..."

Alecia thumped him on the shoulder, not gently. "It's called lying."

"More helpful?" Lance asked, grinning. Chris tried to scowl at him, but was defeated by the fact that he was grinning too, and quite possibly turning bright red. Lance, thankfully, let go of Justin and tugged on JC's hand. "Okay, I think our work is done." He led JC to the dance floor, and Alecia and Joey melted away too. All of a sudden it was just the two of them. Chris actually bit his lip, suddenly feeling jittery.

"So, uh," he said, "you want a drink, or..."

"Screw that," said Justin, and kissed him.

***

This time, Justin didn't break the kiss and run away after a second. Or at all. Chris had time to find out what Justin tasted like, what his mouth felt like, to run his hands up into Justin's curls, to pause for breath and come back at a different angle. Last time, it had been a moment's contact and it had left Chris aching with frustration. Now, he was almost shivering with pleasure. Justin's tongue in his mouth, Justin's hands warm and solid on his waist, Justin's body pulled flush against him: yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

They just stood there, making out at the bar, for a good couple of minutes, before Chris broke the kiss, putting one hand flat on Justin's chest to hold him off a minute. Justin frowned. "Something wrong?"

"No," said Chris hastily. "I just wanted to check. Are you cool?"

Justin was still holding Chris close enough that he could feel it when Justin relaxed. He grinned. "I'm cool, man. I'm _so_ cool." He kissed Chris, quickly, but wetly. "This is awesome."

"Yeah," Chris breathed. They kissed a little more; Chris slid his hand up from Justin's chest to his throat, stroking gently with his thumb, and Justin shivered appreciatively as Chris pulled back again. "Why the hell didn't you just tell us? I mean, seriously, _Nick_ is straight. And that's it."

Justin smiled sheepishly and said, "I had no idea." Chris scoffed. "It's true. Alecia had to tell me _Lance_ was gay."

They both turned to look at the dance floor, where Lance was bumping and grinding with JC, both of them smiling as they leaned in for a kiss. Chris started to laugh, and Justin joined him, leaning down to rest their foreheads together. Still laughing, Chris decided it would be a great idea to kiss Justin again, and slid his hand around to the back of Justin's neck to pull him down.

"God," Justin said a little breathlessly when they came up for air. "I seriously thought if anyone found out, Lance would fire me."

Chris stared. "Don't be an idiot," he said. But Justin was actually shaking a little, so he reached up to put both arms around Justin's shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. Justin hugged him back. "You're fine, babe," Chris murmured. "Nobody's firing you. We got you, okay?" He gave Justin a little squeeze and then shifted so that he could grab Justin's hand. "Okay," he said. "Come on. You're dancing with me – in front of God and everybody."

He dragged Justin by the hand. Justin started to follow, then froze behind him. "Shit," he said. "Kevin's here."

Chris looked, and sure enough, the MD was at the door, talking with Nick. "Bi," said Chris, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Justin's eyebrows shoot up. "Yes, it's really everybody. Come _on."_

Justin put up no further resistance.

***

An hour later, Chris broke for a piss and a drink. When he had beer, he leaned against a pillar to drink it and watch Justin and the others dance: Joey, Lance, and JC.

Justin and JC were dancing like they'd figured out some kind of routine, totally in step, rocking their hips from side to side in perfect time to the music. Nearby, Lance and Joey were all goofy hand gestures and jumping up and down and laughing. Chris had planned on taking his time to drink, maybe do a little mingling, but his resolve broke when Justin, grinning, pointed at him ostentatiously and beckoned. Chris took a hefty swig of his beer and put it on a table he passed on the way to the dance floor, where he took Justin in his arms.

A slow song came on, just at the right moment. They kissed, hard and deep, and then Chris laid his head on Justin's shoulder and they rocked gently to the rhythm of the music. When he opened his eyes briefly, he could see Lance and JC, just standing still and making out. Chris felt great, light-headed and blissed-out and horny all at the same time, and he was entertaining a nice fantasy of pushing Justin up against a wall somewhere and sucking his dick. Still, for now, dancing was great.

The music changed again, and Chris heard Joey let out a whoop over the opening of "Jump Around". He pulled away from Justin, and they ended up in a circle of five, shouting along to the lyrics and jumping enthusiastically in all the right places, punching the air. Even Lance jumped, grinning wildly and mussing his carefully gelled hair. They ended up falling all over each other as the music faded out, laughing and panting. As the next song started, Justin leaned into Chris, murmured that he needed a drink, and vanished.

Chris threw himself into dancing with Joey, missing the warmth of close body contact already. When he danced he always seemed to get lost in it, shaking his butt and not caring what he looked like or who was around him, so it wasn't that weird when Justin seemed to appear out of nowhere, sliding one hand across Chris's stomach, brushing his lips against Chris's ear and then his cheek, and pulling him close. Chris could feel Justin's hard-on pressed against his back. He put his hand over Justin's, then thought better of it and turned around, sliding his hand into the small of Justin's back. That way, Justin could feel that Chris was hard, too. He slid his other hand up Justin's body and tangled it in Justin's birdsnest of curls, guiding him down to kiss him.

They kissed until Justin finally broke away, panting. "Whoa," he whispered, his breath tickling against Chris's ear. "Fuck."

Chris smiled. "Having a good time?" he asked.

"Uh... a little too good," Justin said, a note of embarrassment in his voice.

Chris's answer was to slide his hand down from the small of Justin's back to his ass, applying just a little bit of pressure. Justin's back stiffened, and he made a noise in his throat that might have been trying to be a word. Chris had to take a deep breath in to deal with the thrill that went through him.

He squeezed Justin's ass gently. "Wanna get out of here?"

***

Of course, Chris hadn't booked a taxi, and there were none to be found when he wanted one, which was frustrating as hell when you wanted to get your new boyfriend home as soon as possible. With Justin gripping his hand like that, he really didn't want to have to walk home: he didn't think they'd make it without some serious public indecency on the way. They'd made it back to work, though, and there were, really and truly, no cabs in the whole of downtown Orlando.

They almost walked straight past the parking lot before Chris realized that he was an idiot. He stopped, then tugged on Justin's hand, digging for his car keys. When he thumbed the button and the car unlocked, Justin stopped dead, still holding Chris's hand. "You've been drinking, dude."

"We're not driving anywhere," said Chris. Justin made a surprised face, which dissolved into a smile, and then a blush. "Back seat."

"Uh, okay."

"Um, if that's all right?"

Justin nodded, and pushed Chris up against the car, kissing him hard to show just how all right it was. Chris fumbled for the door handle and let Justin in first, then scrambled in after him.

While Chris was still closing the door, Justin grabbed Chris's other hand and eagerly sucked two fingers into his mouth. Chris slid the rest of himself towards Justin as soon as he could. They exchanged hungry kisses as Justin sprawled on the back seat and pulled Chris down on top of him. Chris smiled into the kisses: so young, so inexperienced, and already so imperious. He liked it, he thought, kissing down Justin's neck and nipping gently at the skin, which made Justin shudder and run both his hands down Chris's back. He hesitated a moment before slowly sliding just one hand over Chris's ass. Chris hummed his approval, kissing his way back up Justin's neck.

"So," said Chris gently, "when you said you'd never had sex in a car, was that...?"

"That was true," said Justin. Chris kissed and then licked under Justin's chin, feather-light, and Justin wriggled underneath him. "Um, wow."

Chris grinned into Justin's throat. "You ain't seen nothin' yet," he said. "You ready?"

"Uh huh," said Justin, his voice a little shaky. Chris bent to nuzzle the top of his chest, then looked up again sharply and moved so that he could look at Justin's face.

"You really want this?" he asked.

Justin looked him right in the eye and said, "God, _yes."_

Chris figured that was good enough for him.

***

Justin tipped his head back as Chris moved back to his throat, kissing and licking, moving downward deliciously slow. He strained up to watch what Chris was doing, feeling shivers run up and down his spine, multiplying. Chris was unbuttoning his shirt, button by button, mouth following hands, leaving a trail of tingling pleasure down Justin's chest. The warm weight of Chris's body shifted against his legs, holding him down even as he wriggled in frustration. He moved his hands against Chris's ass, but Chris said, "Mm, just let it happen. You first, babe." Chris's breath tickled, moving down past his ribs now. Justin sank back against the car door.

Justin had had blow-jobs before, from a couple of high school girlfriends, and he'd always appreciated the favour; the physical side of it was great, even if the part where it was girls had put a damper on things. Now, though, he was dying from the anticipation. He'd been imagining Chris's mouth on his dick for weeks, and with Chris's mouth kissing below his belly button and the crotch of his jeans painfully tight, it was all he could do not to moan with frustration. He couldn't help panting, though, little gasps of excitement as Chris's mouth moved lower. And lower again. And then Chris was dipping two fingers under the waistband of Justin's boxers and extending his tongue underneath, almost to the top of Justin's erection. Justin whimpered and rocked his hips impatiently, and he felt Chris chuckle against him, and that felt pretty incredible too.

Slowly and carefully, Chris unbuttoned and unzipped Justin's fly. Some of the pressure was released, and this time Justin couldn't hold back a moan as Chris wrapped one hand around the base of Justin's cock. After a couple of quick teases with his tongue, making Justin squirm desperately, Chris slid his mouth around Justin's cock and after that Justin just had no chance of keeping quiet. He let out a soft, "Ah, ahhh," and then he couldn't shut up as Chris worked his tongue, sliding up and down the shaft in a random pattern clearly designed to drive Justin crazy, and sucked. Justin's hands flailed a little, and then found Chris's head. Justin tangled his fingers in Chris's hair and tried not to rock his hips too hard.

It lasted no time at all; way too soon, he felt himself start to lose it. He panted, "Chris... oh, _God..."_ and had to hope that was enough of a warning, because the next thing he knew he was arching up into Chris's mouth, totally out of control, and shouting wordlessly as he let go. Everything went a bit blurry for a moment, and when the world came back, he was tingling all over, sticky with sweat, still breathless; Chris was chuckling into his stomach, sounding happy, and Justin let out a breath of deep, deep satisfaction.

"C'mere," said Justin indistinctly, waving his hands. Chris, thankfully, took the hint and crawled up Justin's body until they could kiss, soft and very wet, Justin hunting for the hem of Chris's T-shirt with unco-ordinated hands.

***

Justin's hands found their way under Chris's shirt eventually. Still feeling a little dazed, he stroked up and down the curve of Chris's spine with the tips of his fingers. Chris wriggled on top of him and made a little grunting sound. Justin could feel Chris's cock pressing hard into his stomach, very hard indeed. He figured he should probably go down on Chris, return the favour. He felt a bit strange about it; those high school girlfriends hadn't acted like it was a whole lot of fun.

He shifted underneath Chris, sitting up a little, ran his right hand around to Chris's stomach and slid his left down to cup Chris's ass. Chris said, "Mmm," and Justin kissed him experimentally. Chris put his hands on Justin's neck and kissed back. They kissed for a minute or two, Justin moving his hand slowly up and down Chris's belly until Chris shivered and said, _"Fuck,_ Justin."

Justin smiled against Chris's mouth and shifted his hand down to squeeze Chris's cock. Chris made a strangled noise, and Justin felt a little warm blush in the pit of his stomach in sympathy. He kissed Chris's mouth again, then under his chin, then the base of his throat. Experimentally, Justin scraped his teeth gently against Chris's neck. Chris moaned loudly, so Justin did it again, grazing his teeth against the skin as he slowly rubbed Chris's cock. "Mm," he said into Chris's neck, and then he moved his hands long enough to slide Chris's T-shirt over the top of his head and fling it onto the front seat. "Hold on. Um."

"Fucker," said Chris, breathless, smiling. He nibbled at Justin's neck.

Justin put his hands on Chris's waist and guided him into a sitting position, back against the car door, then shifted himself so he was lying on his front. He put his hands on Chris's thighs, parting them, bent his head, and Chris said, "Oh, _God,_ J." Justin felt a little shiver go up his back.

He unzipped Chris's fly and dipped his head down, extending his tongue to lick Chris's cock. Chris made a noise low in his throat, so Justin did it again, this time licking all the way down, over the head and then swirling around and back up again. Chris's hips jerked, and he said, "Oh yeah," so Justin put his hand around the base of Chris's cock and put his lips around the head.

Slowly, he took more of Chris into his mouth. Chris let out a long, low moan that hit Justin in the pit of the stomach and ran right up his spine and back down again. He had to put his free hand on Chris's hip to steady himself, breathing carefully through his nose, and by the time he'd gotten the angle right he was hard again. His unbuttoned jeans slid down over his hips, but he didn't care about that; he just wanted Chris to make that sound again.

He started out nervous and experimental, sliding his tongue up and down Chris's cock and sucking, gently at first, then applying a little more pressure as Chris whimpered and rocked his hips. When he figured he'd found a rhythm, he picked up the pace a little, and Chris sped up with him, starting to let out little grunts and moans that made Justin wish he had a free hand to touch himself. He kept going, squeezing Chris's hip, licking and sucking and getting used to the taste and smell of Chris's crotch, musky and warm and not at all unpleasant.

He glanced up to look at Chris's face through his eyelashes. Chris had his eyes closed, mouth hanging open, and was breathing loud and ragged in between moans, hands on his chest. Carefully, still moving his tongue, Justin lifted his hand from Chris's hip and grabbed for one of Chris's hands. He guided it slowly down to the top of his own head, wanting to feel the contact. Chris made an approving noise, moved the other hand to join it, and tangled his fingers in Justin's curls. Somehow that just made it right, and Justin concentrated on new experiments with his tongue and his free hand playing with Chris's balls.

The experiments obviously worked, because although Chris lasted a lot longer than Justin had, it still wasn't that long. Justin felt it building, and himself getting harder in anticipation, long before Chris panted, "Justin – I'm gonna," and started to shake. Justin considered pulling away and letting Chris come on his bare chest, but between not being sure if he'd get the timing right and the mess, decided to just stay where he was. Chris pulled back a little right before he came, but Justin used both hands to hold onto Chris's hips, holding him in place, and the next second Chris let out a cry and came into Justin's mouth. It was really sudden, and Justin almost gagged on the hot fluid that was suddenly in his mouth, but then the initial shock was over and he found he could just swallow once and then slide his mouth off Chris's cock.

And, _whoa._ Doing that to Chris was just about the hottest thing ever.

Justin sat up, shirt open, cock rock-hard and poking out of his boxers, jeans around his ankles, breathing hard. He looked at Chris, who opened his eyes slowly, as if waking up.

"Yeah," Chris breathed.

Justin smiled uncertainly. "Was that okay?"

"Okay? _Duuude."_ Chris's smile was blissful. "You are one talented guy." He stretched out one hand, but couldn't reach, so he just waved it in the air. "Too far away, sexy boy."

Justin crawled over and rested his head on Chris's chest. Chris put one hand around Justin's back and the other in his hair, stroking gently. "Hmmm," said Justin happily.

"Mmm," said Chris. Justin's dick was nestled between Chris's legs. Chris shifted a little, making Justin shudder. "Hey," he said, moving his hand from Justin's hair down to his shoulder. Justin could hear the smile in his voice. "Somebody's having a good time."

Chris shifted again, and Justin sighed with pleasure.

"I wanna make you come again," said Chris. "I can do fast or slow, baby, just tell me what you want." Justin had to smile at that as Chris's warm hands slid down his body. Just a few hours ago, that one sentence would have had him tied up in knots, knowing exactly but unable to say it.

Now, though, it was the easiest answer in the world. Justin lifted his head to nuzzle Chris's neck and said, "You."


	6. Step Six: My Boyfriend

**January 9th**

Justin made Chris's gig with minutes to spare, cursing his car, and pretty much everything else in the universe. He'd almost been late, which was just not acceptable. A bunch of Travelstar people were already there, and it was lucky that the guys had saved him a seat, because the place was packed. Lance was sitting on JC's lap – only to save space, he was _sure_ – and he had to kick Alecia's feet off of the one spare seat and carefully wipe it down before sitting. Alecia and Joey mocked him through the last few minutes of some really unfunny guy in a plaid shirt, but they both shut up when the MC announced Chris Kirkpatrick.

It was funny how quickly he forgot about his car as soon as Chris walked onto the stage. Chris hesitated, found Justin in the crowd, and stepped forward to take the mic.

"Okay," said Chris, launching right into it, "so you've probably heard this one before. What's the difference between a straight guy and a gay guy? Six beers, right?" Dead silence, but Justin smiled; Chris had been rehearsing this day and night, practically in his sleep, for the past two weeks. "See, I have the opposite problem. I get drunk, I go straight."

And now Justin grinned, ear to ear, because Chris had the unfamiliar experience of having to wait for laughter to die down. It was polite, maybe a bit uncomfortable – this maybe wasn't Chris's perfect audience – but it was laughter, and Justin saw Chris smile a slightly perplexed smile.

"This is a pain in the ass for my boyfriend..."

Justin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and ignored Alecia poking him in the arm. Chris was going to do well tonight, he could feel it. Later, they'd all go back to Chris's place, have a drink, maybe smoke up, and that would be great. And after that, the two of them would be alone, and that would be even better.

Alecia kept poking him until he turned his head. "Hey," she whispered. "Your boyfriend's doing okay up there."

Justin beamed at her. "I know."


End file.
